


take me home

by androgynousmikewheeler



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Hotch's self destructive tendencies vs Rossi's unrelenting care: fight!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27796741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynousmikewheeler/pseuds/androgynousmikewheeler
Summary: Rossi is not about to let Hotch sleep in his office chair.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	take me home

Hotch startles awake to see Rossi's silhouette stretching into his office, the knuckles of one hand poised against the door. 

He straightens, rubbing sleep from his eye, trying to compose himself, not let his exhaustion show.

"Rossi," he says, voice a shade too husky, "what can I do for you?"

"It's nearly three in the morning," Rossi states.

Hotch checks the clock and curses internally. "Why are you still here?"

His face wrinkles. "I could ask you the same."

Hotch gestures at the multitudinous papers crowding his desk. "I have reports to finish."

"And the crick in your neck from sleeping in your chair won't help." He grabs Hotch's blazer from its hanger and raps on the door. "Come on, I'm taking you home."

"Dave, I don't need–"

Rossi silences him with a glare. "Don't make me tase you."

Hotch groans but follows him between the abandoned desks, limbs stiff and eyes drooping. To be fair, he's not completely sure that Rossi's joking.

"Your plan seems to be working well," Rossi says as the elevator doors close.

Hotch yawns. "What plan?"

"To get me to take care of you. I mean, someone has to, and you're clearly not going to."

Hotch blinks at him, bewildered. "This wasn't a plan; I'm busy. And I can take care of myself."

Rossi smirks. "Sure."

"It _wasn't_ and I _can._ "

Their staring contest stretches the entire journey to the garage.

"Just get in the damn car," Rossi says, rapping the back of Hotch's head, "you absolute mule."

Hotch's death glare loses some of its regular ferocity due to the seam of his chair printed across his cheek. He climbs into the leather seat and buckles his seatbelt as Rossi puts the car in reverse.

By the time they reach the street, Hotch is asleep.


End file.
